Encore Worthy: a Mountains & Men prequel novella (16 page)

“Are you going to come for me, baby doll?” I mutter, my thumb finding her clit as my balls start to tighten.

“Please,” she hardly manages. Her grip tightens around my shoulders as she throws her head back. “Sage—
fuck! Yes!
”

Her pussy clenches my dick and my groans mingle with hers as I spill my release. “Millie—baby—!” She frees a sated sigh as she rests her forehead against mine, her hands falling to my chest as we both come down from our moment of bliss. “Every time, doll face—fuck, I can’t get enough of you.”

“Me neither,” she breathes.

She kisses me, her mouth hungry for more, and I don’t refuse her. I hold her against me with one hand and squeeze her ass with my other. She hums when I roll us over, pinning her beneath me. I pull away just long enough to take my dick out of her heat and toss the used condom aside. We kiss until I’m hard again and then she has only one request.

“
Again.
”

LATER THAT SUNDAY
evening, after a couple hours of worshipping each other’s bodies, we finally watched the movie. As soon as it was over, Millie told me that she needed to get home, so I took her to her car and then followed her back to her apartment. I went with the excuse of wanting to make sure she got in alright, but I’m still not sorry about the twenty minutes we spent making out in front of her door before she forced herself out of my arms. I could tell it was hard for her to say goodbye, which I’ll admit felt pretty damn awesome.

Monday came and brought hell with it. Dealing with the aftermath of beating the shit out of our bass player and kicking him out of the band fucking sucked. Derrick and I spent a good amount of time going over all the gigs we have for the next few weeks, trying to line up a couple guys to fill in until we can find a replacement. JJ started blasting want ads all over social media, and we hope to get some hits and start the audition process soon.

It’s been a little tense around the house. Nobody blames me for my actions or my decision, but the timing sucks ass. We’ve got some really big shows coming up, so we’ve all been a little on edge. It certainly doesn’t help that by Thursday, relieving a little stress by hitting the gym isn’t cutting it anymore. I need some fucking pussy and the only pussy I want has been temporarily unattainable. If she’s not working, I am—either with the guys or at Little Bird. Even still, I’ve called her every day. There’s something about hearing her voice that calms me down and pulls me into a creative space.

I finally finished writing her song and JJ and I have been collaborating on the composition. It’s going to be some pretty sick shit. I haven’t told her about it, though. I want it to be a surprise.

Fuck. Rosy was right. This chick is turning me into a sap . . .

I want her, anyway. She’s worth it. I just know it.

Friday night, as I stand behind the coffee bar with Brandon, the evening rush long forgotten, I wonder what Millie is doing. I can think of a few things I
wish
we were doing right now, but I know I won’t see her until tomorrow night. The Brew Cycle with everyone should be fun. I appreciate Sarah putting the whole thing together and triggering Millicent’s
yes.
It’s a start, and I’ll take what I can get.

When I look over at Brandon, his focus zeroed in on his phone, I can’t help but laugh. I know, without even having to ask, who he’s texting. It’s written all over his face.

“Did that hurt?”

He looks up from his phone with a scowl.“What?” he asks, sliding his mobile into his pocket.

“That tat on your forehead. You know, the one that says,
Pussy-Whipped,
” I tease, pointing at his head.

He flips me off, which makes me laugh again, and he joins in before he mutters, “Shut up.”

“Seriously, you should see what you look like when you’re texting her. She’s got your balls.”

“No shit! I sure as hell am not complaining, though.”

I study him, folding my arms across my chest as I lean up against the front counter. “Fuck, man. You’re not kidding around. You’re for real about her.”

“You’re not seriously just now figuring that out, are you?” he asks with a smirk.

I shake my head at him, knowing that he doesn’t get what I’m saying. Everybody knows how they feel about each other. It’s the most obvious shit in the world. But this . . .”No, I mean, like—you love her and shit.” He doesn’t say a word, which is all the confirmation I need. “Part of me wants to give you a hard time,” I say with a smirk. “But I can’t. You’re one lucky dude. Sarah’s the shit.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

“I owe her big time for getting Millie to go out with me.”

“You really like this one. I’ve never seen you try so hard.”

“It’s like I said, man—she’s insane,” I tell him, rubbing my chin. “She’s wicked smart and sexy as fuck.” I shake my head, thinking over the past week. I’m getting to know her, but she’s different than other girls. I know that there’s so much more to her than she’s letting me see. “Sarah was right, though. She’s got her guard up all the time. I’ve got my work cut out for me. But I know she’s worth it. I just have to get her to see that I am, too.”

“Good luck with that, man. Seriously. I hope it works out for you.”

“Thanks.”

We chat for another few minutes and then he heads to the back to finish up a few things before we close. I clean up a little bit, my thoughts continuously drifting back to Millie. I was giving Brandon shit about Sarah, but I don’t really have room to speak. I can’t even remember the last time I thought about a girl this much. This isn’t about the chase. It’s about
her.

Her long-ass legs.

Her narrow hips.

Her perfect tits.

Her straight hair.

Her sweetheart lips.

Her eyes, green and gorgeous.

Her
eyes,
haunted and mysterious.

There are demons in her eyes and I can’t look away.

I can’t let go.

WHEN MY MOTHER
calls, I ignore her.

For the first time in forever, I have a date with a guy that I can’t wait to see. He’s made it nearly impossible for me to go two minutes without thinking about him. It’s as if he’s managed to find a way to manipulate time to his advantage; every moment, every hour, every day that goes by that we don’t get to see each other—he
uses
that as a tool. A weapon. I’ve been fighting it all week—futilely battling my thoughts, longing for the control that he seems to have taken from me.

My life now
excepts
him.
Anticipates
him. What used to be a physical longing, an ache that could only be soothed by his touch, has morphed into this mental struggle. I find myself
daydreaming
about him when I should be grading assignments. I’m
dreaming
of him instead of sleeping with no memory of my subconscious activity. I except his call every day; I anticipate his texts when he’s thinking of me. He’s relentless.

I’m a fucking man who knows what he wants.

He’s not a liar. He knows what he wants and what he wants is
me.
For reasons I haven’t defined with words yet, I want him, too. I’m still not convinced that this is smart. I’m not convinced that this is safe. I’m not convinced that either of us will make it out of this unscathed but . . . for the first time in forever, I have a date with a guy I can’t wait to see. That
feeling
is not one that I can tuck away and ignore. Even if I wanted to, he wouldn’t let me. So, when my mother calls, I ignore her.

The last thing I want to do, just hours before Sage gets here, is listen to my mother bitch and moan like she always does. I don’t need to hear how miserable she is and how much of that is my fault. Not that she would ever say so explicitly, but I’m not an idiot and both of us know it. While she might choose not to care, I care.

Tonight, I care.

The third time she calls, I pour myself a glass of wine before I swipe my screen to answer, ever so begrudgingly. “Hello?” I answer.

“Where were you? I’ve called three times? Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

I take a deep breath and then a sip of wine before I reply. “I just answered, mother.”

“Tati, don’t get smart with me,” she demands, referring to me by the nickname only she ever uses.
Millicent
was apparently my father’s idea.
Tatiana
was hers—she’s called me Tati for twenty years, now.

“I have plans tonight. Can we do this another time?”

“Plans? Tatiana, I don’t ask you for much. One phone call every two weeks. You should know better than to make plans.”

I roll my eyes and then guzzle down the rest of my drink. “God, mother—
heaven forbid
I make plans on a Saturday night.” I regret the words as soon as they pass through my lips. Not because I don’t mean them, but because it sets the woman off. I’m only half listening to her rant when a knock sounds at the door.

Happy for any excuse to end this call, I hurry to see who is in the hallway. I barely get the door open before he’s coming toward me, grabbing the back of my thighs to hoist me up around his waist. I squeak out my surprise, my reflexes beckoning me to lock my ankles behind his back, my free hand gripping his shoulder. He grins at me before kissing the side of my jaw.

“Hey, doll face.”

“Um—mother, I have to go. Something just came up. I’ll talk to you in a couple weeks, okay?” I end the call before she has a chance to respond and let the device slip from my fingers onto the floor. “What are you doing here?” I ask Sage, ignoring my phone when it starts ringing. “It’s only seven thirty.”

“Wanted to see you,” he says, reaching up to grip the back of my neck. He draws me down for a kiss and I don’t fight him. “Wanted to taste you,” he mutters before slipping his tongue into my mouth. He reaches up to squeeze my ass, a habit of his that I find myself growing fond of, and I can’t help but curl my lips into a smile against his.

“Your timing is perfect.”

When my phone starts to ring again, he looks down at the floor and then back at me. “Are you sure about that?”

“Shut the door and kiss me, Sage.”

“How about I shut the door and you take off all your clothes?”

For a moment, I wonder if he’s joking. Then I get a good look at his face and it hits me as if it’s an absolute truth—Sage never jokes about sex.

I unhook my legs from around him and slide my way down his chest until my feet are on the floor. I take one step back, and then another, my eyes locked with his as I reach for the hem of my tank top and begin pulling it over my head. He closes the door just as my bra is revealed, and my neck warms when I see the lust in his eyes.

He watches me without moving a muscle as I push my cotton shorts down my legs. My bra goes next. Then my panties. I’m hardly surprised with how much he can turn me on just by
watching
me. Knowing that his gaze holds the unspoken promise of a level of pleasure only he can provide, I revel in his slow perusal of my nakedness.

“Do you know how fucking beautiful you are? Every inch of you, baby.” He takes his time closing the distance between us and then slowly slides his hands up my sides, his thumbs tracing the underside of my breasts. “I don’t want to share you, Millicent. Not even a little. Let’s do this. Just you and me. No one else. You in?”